In the ruins of the city. What lies beneath…The strong that were once. The discarded wreathe.
When the powerful fall. When the reign comes to end. The rubble, the cornerstone, rise to lead again.
Where do they lead? The broken, the lost, where do they go? When all has been tossed
upon the shoulders of the few,
the ones who don’t give up,
in face of slavery.
Standing up, all for one, the defending run, one for all, heed the call.
Individuality sacrificing reality, individuality serving the majority, individuality the call to more than selfishry.
In the ruins of triumph, gluttony, and greed…springs the root of unselfish seed.
…At some point, it’s gotta end. Because a cycle of selfishness with a hedonistic tend, collapses.
It’s not easy. It’s not. But telling you to be who you want…Sometimes you have to be more.
You can slip into the comfort of no expectations. You can slip into the nothingness.
“A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it.”
(Originally composed February 2014.)